Deepwoods (Book 1) (6 page)

“And he’s honestly interested in everything,” Siobhan added
thoughtfully. “And I do mean everything. He told me he came to us because he
wants to study the different cultures of this world, find a way to make trading
easier. But his curiosity certainly isn’t limited to that.”

“Truly.” Denney shook her head, sending her honey-colored
hair swirling on the water’s surface. “You should have seen Grae’s face when he
actually took
notes
on pathfinding. I don’t think I’ve ever seen our
gloomy man openly beam like that before.”

A thought occurred and Siobhan asked Sylvie, “Did you happen
to ask around? Find out if he really is related to the Silver Moon Hammons?”

“Oh, he is,” Sylvie answered with an odd smile on her face.
“But at the same time, he’s not.”

Siobhan set herself to be patient as she weaseled the full
tale out of the woman. Sylvie didn’t enjoy anything more than a good secret to
share. “Do expound upon this matter, Mistress Storyteller.”

Sylvie giggled slightly and sat forward, dark eyes shining
with enjoyment. “I asked Charlin, you know, Darrens’ head assistant, and he
told me the full story. Apparently, over two decades ago Hammon Senior had a
bit of a drunken affair with his first wife’s sister—”

Siobhan’s eyes widened to the point they were in danger of
falling out of her head. “You’re joking!”

“No, I’m not,” Sylvie assured her. “It caused quite the
scandal at the time. At any rate, it caused one Master Markl Hammon to be born
into the world. At first, no one was quite sure what to do with him. The sister
certainly didn’t want him, as he endangered any future marriage prospects she
had. So Hammon Senior took him in as a son, which enraged his wife and made her
leave altogether. But, as it turns out, the split became a blessing. Hammon Senior
met and married a woman with a much better character about a year later, and
she gave him a whole passel of children and raised Markl as if he were her own
son.”

“The mother and the sisters he mentioned earlier,” Denney
said thoughtfully. “True, he did sound genuinely fond of them.”

“With good reason, it sounds like,” Siobhan added just as
thoughtfully. So a mother that rejected him, a step-mother that wouldn’t claim
him, but a third mother that married in and loved him unconditionally. Talk
about a rocky start in life. But he seemed to have come through it just fine.

“So while he is the firstborn son,” Sylvie continued, “he’s
not a legitimate heir and so technically shouldn’t inherit anything. Rumor has
it that his father actually gave him the choice of whether he wanted to inherit
the guild or not and Markl chose not to. But he’s obviously still got a lot of
family support.”

“And funding for his chosen path,” Siobhan mused, sinking a
little further into the tub. It also rather explained why he so readily joined
their guild to pursue that path. Loved or not, he didn’t choose to stay in the
family business. He might very well be looking for a place of his own,
somewhere that he felt he truly needed to be.

“He’s a good man.” Sylvie said this with uncharacteristic
sobriety, expression soft. “His mother did well raising him. I was teasing him
earlier, getting on his lap like that, but I was also testing him. I wanted to
see what he would do. He kept his hands properly on my knees and didn’t do a
thing to make me uncomfortable. Do you know how many men I’ve met that would
have taken advantage of that position somehow?”

Far too many. One of the tests that Siobhan put men through
when applying to the guild was how they reacted to Sylvie. Most responded with
lecherous intentions, to one degree or another. Tran, Fei and Conli hadn’t,
hence why she’d let them into the guild. She had no use of men that treated
women disrespectfully.

“I knew he wouldn’t.”

Sylvie quirked an eyebrow at her, slightly surprised. “How?”

“When you brought him to me, he was more interested in
looking around the Hall than at you,” Siobhan explained with a slight smile.
“Of course he noticed you, but a blind man would do that. He didn’t do anything
more than give you a look of appreciation. That’s when I knew he was
trustworthy.”

Denney shook her head wryly. “I knew he had to be a good man
because the dogs liked him. But you know, Siobhan, the other reason why we like
you to be the guildmaster is because you have an uncanny knack for judging
people.”

Siobhan snorted. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s because I let you
lot get by with anything short of murder.”  

“And that,” Sylvie agreed serenely. “Well now, what else
shall we discuss while the men are out of earshot?”

True, opportunities like this were rare, especially while
they were on the road. “Actually, I need to ask something else about Hammon. Do
either of you know if he’s skilled in fighting?” To not be a capable fighter in
this world was strange, but so was the idea of being a ‘scholar’ so she felt like
she had to ask.

“I would assume he is,” Denney volunteered. “I saw him pack
a sword spear this morning.”

Oh good. Siobhan let that weight roll over her shoulders. She’d
forgotten to ask that pertinent little detail before shipping out this morning.
But it seemed an odd choice of weapon for him. A sword spear was part blade,
part staff and would stand taller than the man himself. Tran had trained in it
at one point and told her it took considerable skill to be able to wield it
without leaving yourself open. And why would a Robargen’s choice of sword be a
Teheranian weapon?

Siobhan made a mental note to ask Hammon that later, if the
opportunity ever arose, and went to the next topic she wanted to discuss. “Is
Fei sick? I’ve never seen him sleep this much.”

“Bit of a hangover,” Denney explained. “He came in to see
Conli about it late last night. The sweet rolls apparently had enough sugar in
them to make him a bit tipsy.”

She’d barely detected the sugar at all. Siobhan rubbed at
the bridge of her nose. “Really? He’s
that
sensitive?”

“Conli says it’s getting worse as he grows older.” Denney
made a face. “Poor man. He’s going to have to be careful about what he eats.”

Oh joy of wonders.

A soft knock came at the door and Beirly’s voice floated
through the wood. “I’m looking for three beautiful women that belong to the
Deepwoods Guild. Have any of you lovely water nymphs seen them?”

All three women laughed. “We’re here!” Siobhan assured him.
“Is dinner ready?”

“And waiting,” Beirly answered, tone rich with unvoiced
laughter.

“Then we’ll be out shortly.”

Siobhan, a habitually early riser, came awake naturally as
the sun started to rise over the horizon. The bed might have been on the narrow
and small side, but she’d gotten a good night’s rest regardless. She sat up and
raised her arms over her head, stretching and getting the blood flowing again.
From downstairs wafted the smell of baking bread, sizzling meat, and something
spicy cooking. Mmm. That smelled like good motivation to get moving.

As she climbed out of bed, both dogs came alert and stared
up at her, tails thumping softly against the wooden floor. They had started out
on top of Denney’s bed (and because of the narrow size of the bed, on top of
Denny as well) but had at some point in the night moved to lie right in front
of the door instead. Well, it had likely gotten too hot in here for them to
stay on the bed. What with the heat rising up from the kitchen under them, and
the fireplace in here blazing merrily along, it’d nearly gotten too hot for
Siobhan at one point. Not that she had a mind to complain about that, not after
the day she’d had yesterday.

She rose and dressed in something warm, pulling on her boots
and trying not to fall all over Sylvie, who had chosen to sleep in between the
beds. The dogs didn’t help as they got up and kept circling her as she moved,
nosing at her legs in a clear signal that they wanted to go out when she did.

“Alright, alright,” she muttered softly. “Wait a minute,
will you?”

Denney lifted her head a scant inch off the pillow and pried
open one eye. “Uhhh?”

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” she told the still mostly asleep
woman.

Reassured, Denney’s head dropped back down and she went
right back into a deep sleep.

Opening the door, Siobhan let the dogs go out first before
following after, shutting the door firmly behind her. She didn’t get more than
a step before Fei came out of the room two doors down. He took in the sight
with nothing more than a good morning grunt.

“Morning,” she greeted wryly. She, Fei and Wolf were the
only three in the guild that even tried to wake up early. But while Fei might
be moving, it didn’t mean he had properly woken up yet, and she didn’t try to
really talk to him until he’d downed either food or tea.

They all clumped down the stairs and toward the front door.
Siobhan stepped outside with the dogs, fully expecting Fei to stay indoors and
simply keep an eye on things from the window. But he surprised her by coming
out as well, stopping on the threshold. Her eyes turned up to the sky but it
looked just as angry and grey as it had the day before and even on this narrow
street, snowflakes fell with regular consistency. The storm had not yet passed.
She blew out an irritable breath. Will ye or nill ye, they were stuck here for
another day it seemed.

She kept only the most casual of eyes on the dogs—they knew
better than to get out of her line of sight—and stood so she could look
sideways at Fei. “Are you awake or not?”

“Tran-ren snores.”

In other words, awake. Right. “So you ended up with Tran
and…?”

“Hammon-jia.”

Oh? So that’s where Hammon ended up. “He strikes me as a
good man.”

“Yes, from what I’ve seen,” Fei agreed. After a long pause,
he added thoughtfully, “He’s certainly intelligent. He was respectful in asking
me questions last night, but also very curious. Why did you let him into the
guild?”

“He agreed to do the books,” she responded cheerfully.

Fei gave her quite the look, as if he knew she was only
half-kidding. “Siobhan-ajie. Why did you let him in?”

He wanted a serious answer? She took a half step to face him
more fully and answered honestly, “For the same reason I let you into the
guild, and Conli, and Tran. Because you all had a look in your eyes as if you
were trying to find a proper place to belong, a place that would be home for
you unconditionally. He gave me multiple reasons for coming to Deepwoods, and
I’m not sure if even he realizes why he’s really here, but I think that if we
give him time he’ll find what he’s searching for. Besides, he’s one of the few
men that I can trust around Sylvie.”

Fei inclined his head in agreement.

“You’ve seen that sword spear he carries around?” She waited
for Fei’s nod to continue, “Find a way to subtly test his skills with that,
will you? I need to know how strong he is. I’d rather not put him in more
danger than he can handle.”

Fei seemed to find this funny, as his eyes crinkled up. “You
don’t worry about that with Tran-ren or Wolf-ren.”

“That’s because they think danger is
fun
,” she
bemoaned. “If I tried to pull them out of trouble, they’d give me a look like a
pair of dogs being denied a treat. You’re the first sensible fighter I’ve ever
seen.”

He shrugged.

The dogs came back to her at that point and nosed at her
hands. She patted them and gave them a good scratch behind the ears, and almost
got knocked down by wagging tails of happiness. With a wave, she ushered them
all back inside, shivering a little as she went. When they came through the
door, she found Wolf already seated at one of the tables and three plates of
steaming food set out. Oh good, he’d ordered for all of them.

As they took a seat, he whistled for the dogs, pointing them
toward bowls of scraps and water that sat next to his chair. As they happily
munched, the humans dug into their own food with happy smiles.

Only with her plate clean did Siobhan sit back and asked
Wolf, “Is this cold typical of Wynngaard? The only time we’ve been through here
is during high summer or late spring.”

“And we came this way during those times for good reason,”
he informed her dryly. “It’s only going to get colder.”

She made a face. Not the answer she wanted.

“That said, this snowstorm is unusual for this time of the
year. We should have another month or two before it gets this cold. I think
it’s just an unseasonal storm that’s sweeping through.” This would have sounded
vastly reassuring if he hadn’t added, “Or at least, I hope it is. Otherwise
we’re in for a cold winter up here.”

“It didn’t seem as cold to me this morning,” Fei piped up,
lingering at the table with a hot cup of tea warming his hands. “We are out of
the wind here, though.”

“Let’s check with the tower guards, see if they noticed any
other storms coming our direction,” Wolf suggested. “From their lookouts,
they’ve got quite the view.”

Not a bad thought. Siobhan nodded in agreement. “We can’t
travel a full eight hours again in a snowstorm. Not without risking fingers and
toes. But if there’s another storm coming, I’d like to get ahead of it and be
in Quigg when it hits. We’re going to need to spend a few days there, likely, to
find if Lirah Darrens even made it over the bridges. I want that confirmed
before we travel any further north.”

Wolf scooted back from the table in a rough scraping sound
and stood. “I’ll go ask the guards, then.”

“Take hot tea or hot bread with you,” she suggested. “Your
questions will go over better.”

He thought about that for a moment, shrugged agreement, and
reversed directions to the kitchen instead.

“Do you always feed people?” Hammon asked from behind her.

Siobhan started in her chair, twisting about so she could
see the scholar. He had moved so quietly that she hadn’t the faintest notion
he’d joined them downstairs. He looked a little mussed around the edges, but he
was fully dressed and obviously ready to start the day.

“I do,” she answered him after that startled heartbeat,
waving him to join them at the table. “Well, among my people, we believe in
feeding people for taking the time and trouble to help us, no matter how minor
it might be. Offering food—especially to men and children—is an easy way to
make friends, too.”

Hammon seemed to find this amusing somehow. “So that’s why
you offered me strawberries and chocolate.”

“That’s why,” she agreed. “How did you sleep, Hammon?”

“Surprisingly well.”

Her brows quirked at this. “You must be a deep sleeper,
then. Fei tells me that Tran snores.”

His smile broadened so that it became mischievous. “I put
wax in my ears.”

Siobhan threw her head back and laughed aloud. “What, and
you didn’t share?”

Fei gave the blond an unamused look. “Next time, you will.”

Hammon held up both hands in a gesture of surrender and
placation. “Next time, I promise. I’m surprised to see we’re the only ones
awake.”

“There are certain people that you do not wish to awaken if
you can help it,” Siobhan informed him, not at all joking. “If we leave them to
their own devices, they’ll come down eventually. If not, we sic the dogs on
them.”

Fei pointed at the large clock sitting on the mantel. “Isn’t
it about time for that?”

“If we’re stuck here for another day, no sense in upsetting
people when I don’t need to.”

“Coward,” Fei teased.

“I prefer to call it survival instincts,” she corrected
loftily.

“Ahhh…” Hammon glanced between the two of them, unsure if
they were joking or not. “For my information and future safety, who isn’t safe
to wake up?”

“Conli-ren, Sylvie-jae, and Tran-ren,” Fei said.

“But for entirely different reasons,” Siobhan couldn’t help
but explain. “Tran’s first instinct on waking is to maim or kill anyone leaning
over him. He apparently had an interesting childhood. Conli doesn’t wake up so
much as
leap
into wakefulness.  He comes awake as if there’s an
emergency and he has to be in motion right that second. We’ve bumped heads
quite a few times because of it. But Sylvie doesn’t want to wake up. She’s
quite stubborn about it, actually. She doesn’t really do anything but kick at
you and grumble. It’s what she does afterwards, to get revenge, they make men
tremble.”

“As bad as a cat, that one,” Fei grumbled. “Her methods are
devious and underhanded.”

Hammon caught the muttering and inclined his head toward the
Saoleoran in question.

Siobhan carefully mouthed, ‘Bad experience.’

His mouth formed a silent ‘Ahhh’ but didn’t say anything
more than that.

One of the kitchen girls came out bearing a steaming plate
and a large tankard of tea, which was plopped down in front of Hammon with
nothing more than a ‘Good morning to you, sir.’

Hammon dug in and lingered over the first bite before saying
with approval, “This is quite good.”

“Gramms is a good host and has good cooks,” Siobhan informed
him after taking a long swallow of hot tea. “It’s why we always stay here.”

“Just that?”

“And he likes the dogs.” Fei looked down at Pyper’s upturned
face, moving an arm so he could scratch behind one floppy ear. “And what do you
want, hmm?”

“Your unfinished plate,” Siobhan translated dryly. “Isn’t
that obvious?”

Fei played along with a straight face. “I thought she
finally came to me for affection.”

“The more you feed her, the more she’ll love you. It’s the
rule of dogs,” Hammon offered, eyes dancing.

Hoping to get a little more information about her newest
guildmate, Siobhan asked casually, “That sounds like the voice of experience.
Had a dog, did you?”

“A collier, growing up,” he admitted just as easily, eating
steadily. “He was more mischievous than these two. Is it Icean that trained
them so well?”

“It is,” Fei answered. Giving up, he lowered his plate to
the ground and let Pyper lick it clean.

Wolf came back into the room with his usual heavy stride,
making the floor vibrate at his passing. Siobhan looked up in surprise,
protesting, “You can’t possibly have gone to the watchtowers and back that
fast!”

“Didn’t,” he agreed, bracing both hands on the table’s
surface and leaning over it slightly. “Gramms beat me to it. The guards report stormy
skies in every direction, but there’s a warm wind picking up from the south.
Mayhap the storm will pass today, or so they say.”

She let out a breath of relief. “Thanks to any god listening
for that. Alright, then we need to get ready to leave tomorrow. We might as
well spend today doing a little research and getting Hammond a ring.”

Hammon quirked a brow at that. “A ring? What sort?”

In demonstration, she held up her right hand, which had a
silver ring embossed with the basic arch of a bridge on it. “Bridge rings are
what we call ‘em. They’re specifically for Island Pass. See, the rule they have
for visitors here is that you’re only allowed to use the hostels, inns, and
stores as you pass through. It prevents mischief from happening in the more
residential areas of the island. But if you wear this ring, you’re a trusted
man by the officials and allowed to wander in wherever you will and access
records as you need them. If you plan to stay with us for any length of time,
you’ll need a ring. We come through here often and the rings help us with our
clients.”

“May I…?” he asked, with a gesture toward her ring.